


The Game

by StarlightCaptivator



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pregnancy Kink, Rough Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, implied mechpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 02:24:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5030011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightCaptivator/pseuds/StarlightCaptivator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His favorite prey provides the sweetest prize.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Game

The game was afoot before Sideswipe could do as much as run the relevant thought-thread, and by that point he had already lost. 

He was in an unused storage room, tinkering at a new mechanism for an upcoming prank when the world suddenly did a 180 and he was slammed to the floor on his front-side. A hand at the back of his helm ground his face down into the floor, and if it wasn't for the unwavering familiar existence of the EM field suddenly pressing down on to him, his initial surprise and alarm would've easily evolved into panic. 

A powerful engine purred before another hand caressed its way down his backstrut, he barely remembered to slam his end of his twin bond shut before arousal began to arc through his system. Comm pings queued up from Sunstreaker almost immediately, but they went unanswered. It was a rule of the game, and how magnificently had he lost it. 

The hand had gone from caressing to groping, but as soon as Sunstreaker started trying to reach his twin, it began in focused, firm touches to transformation seams and interface paneling. Sideswipe considered making more of a struggle for the prize that was his port but he knew that as soon as it was apparent that he wasn't going to be answering his brother that Sunstreaker would start on a warpath through the Ark. 

Simply put, time was limited. 

The groping hand hoist his hips off up the ground, while the hand on his helm made itself busy slowly mapping out a sensory horn. Sideswipe was more than ready when his aft reached an acceptable height, his interface paneling was well out of the way. The rev of the powerful engine above him signaled an appreciation for this, sentimental even in the face of what would look like a quick, brutal fragging to an outsider. 

Sideswipe let out a low moan into the floor as a spike just on the side of too large for his specs pushed into him, aided on its way by his valve's speedy lubrication. The first stroke always burned most in these encounters, but he was soon to be a sloppy mess either way. He was filled out from ceiling node to rim in a matter of seconds.  

"So ready for me..." and there was that resonant voice, one of the few he'd follow anywhere at a moment's notice. It could ramp up his charge and take him to the edge of overload just by the filthy things that would pass over his audials, aided in the feedback in feeling how aroused it would make his twin in turn. 

They always lost the game, without fail, but it had been so long since the last time they played... 

A snapping of hips and a squeeze of one of his horns brought his mind fully back to the matter at hand. "I want your attention  _here_ ." was growled with an illustrating grind downwards and Sideswipe could do naught much more than pant through gritted denta and clench down. A ruthless pace started up and Sideswipe's frame was covered. Hot air ghosted over the top of his helm. Digits found their way to his anterior node and  _pinched_ . "I want  _this time_ that I put my bitlet in you to be just as memorable as  _last time_ , after all." 

There it was, and Sideswipe was overloading with a sudden, half-strangled yelp. Charge chasing pleasure rushed through his circuits, fritzing out his sight for a long moment and knocking his vocalizer into spitting static. The pace continued through his climax and drug a second out of him on the last aftershocks of the first when searing transfluid flooded his channel. 

They shared a moment of comfort together, as the hand at his helm eased up into a gentle series of pets.  A moment was all it stayed though, as the door slammed open from behind them. 

"Prime!" Sunstreaker snarled, and he was on the big mech in astrosecods. Eager for the challenge the golden frontliner provided, Optimus Prime disengaged from Sideswipe to face down his brother. Sideswipe collapsed down into a small puddle of his own fluids and divets he had made in the floor, but he lifted his head in time to watch Optimus bodily hoist Sunstreaker up and then slam him into the wall. 

He was knocked silly long enough to be gripped by the neck and pinned bodily by the frame of the heavy mech.

"Yield!" Optimus' growl was reminiscent of his battlefield timbre. Being the focus of such intensity, Sunstreaker visibly shivered. Grimace morphed to a feral grin, and he wrenched an arm free long enough to reach and try to push at Optimus' face. 

"Make me, rust bucket." It was petulant, immature even, but there was an edge of excitement mixed with lust to Sunstreaker's voice that spoke volumes about how he actually felt. He would 'lose' the game, as he did without fail, but that wasn't the point. He wanted this desperately, wanted to earn the badges of honor the dents and bruises would be to show that he fought and  _lost,_ but fought none-the-less. His spark skipped a beat as the light from Optimus Prime's optics narrowed at him before he was pressed in close again, and his interface paneling was ripped open without any further warning. 

Sunstreaker let out a pained grunt, but his spike pressurized to fullness immediately, and the sheen of excessive lubricants painting the lips of his valve betrayed his desire to the fullest. Prime let out a dark chuckle, jamming two digits into his sopping valve without preamble. 

Where Sideswipe was often taken quick and hard at the start of their game, Optimus often worked Sunstreaker over slowly, whipping him up into a frenzy before taking him, forcing him to pieces before his brother's eyes. 

This time was different, and Sideswipe already had some ideas why as Prime drew a strangled, thrashing howl from his brother with his digits pistoning in and out. Another stroke, two, and he replaced those digits with his spike in one driving motion. Sideswipe felt the mild impressions of pleasure and lust lapping up against their bond, and it did little to help tamp out his own reemerging arousal. 

Prime wanted to change the rule of the game? Then he'd adapt. Sideswipe braced himself, and threw open his side of the bond. Sunstreaker, defiant to the last, never damped his end of their twin bond when the game was afoot. Now, as the rhythmic clank 'n screech of hot metal on metal against an immovable wall sounded repeatedly through the small area, Sideswipe was glad for it. 

It drowned out his own moans, after all. Assisted only  by his hands and the bond, he came with Sunstreaker, feeding sensation back into the bond to double their shared pleasure. Pinned by Optimus, Sunny's shout was muffled.  Electricity arced through the small gaps in his armor and to those of his lover's. A few hard strokes later and Optimus was with him, holding him there and close to himself in some half-embrace. 

Knocked offline, Sunstreaker's chassis flagged against the sturdier frame of his Prime. After a few moments of quiet but for the soft pings of heated metal, Optimus withdrew carefully from the golden mech. He was all ginger touch and careful hold, and he brought him to lie beside his brother who gave him a half-dreamy look. 

"You cheated." He grumbled good-naturedly, moving to resume in his petting of Sideswipe's helm. Sideswipe stuck his glossa out at him in a little bout of faux churlishness. 

 "You cheated first." 

Optimus let out a rumbling chuckle. It cut off quickly though, as the static buzz of comms filled the air. 

Sideswipe bit his lip plating to keep himself from laughing as Prime stood up stock straight. "Ah, yes Ratchet. I...  _did_ forget that I had... critical maintenance today." The big mech glanced down at the brothers for just half an astrosecond before answering Ratchet again. "No, everything seems... fine..." 

In the ensuing silence, Sideswipe could practically hear the deductions flowing. When Optimus flinched, he could just about hear the "You didn't." from the other end of the link. 

Prime worried at the back of his helm with one servo, weighing his answers. "I might've..." Another moment of silence. "....I did." 

Sides couldn't help the soft snort then, as Prime flinched with the explosion of what was liable to be a quite nasty streak of insult and expletive in his audial. He propped himself up on his forearms as Optimus gave him a pleading look. 

"Nope, you're on your own for this one, bossbot." 

**Author's Note:**

> If you've not realized that fertility fetish Optimus Prime is one of my absolute faves then I am here to tell you: fertility fetish Optimus Prime is one of my absolute faves. Many thanks to Blue_Blurr/Shut-up-Blurr and Cosmogyral-delirium for editing help! :3c Aside from finishing this, this was another one of those middle of the night smut projects. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
